Time was
A silver day wide whipped
clouds unfold move to the east
Weary the memory
fades into darkness
Shadow embraces
the lonely space
Stone walled
garden turns to grey
Dry stocks
whisper together
wait for the winter wind
bend, break, decay
Rooted in deep earth
in a stranger’s place
posted by Fran @ 6:40 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Yes. Images blooming in the mind. Again, the reader stands where you stood, sees what you saw, hears, perceives . . . I shiver in the coming of the chill winds of winter, my breath heavy and hollow with loneliness. To be able to put such a feeling into words and pass it to another - poetry. Yes. A remarkable gift.
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